Our own Fortress
by EraserBits95
Summary: He was crying. I had never seen him cry before. All of his emotions channeled through in masks of white-hot fury and destructive behavior. Some times, when it got really bad, he would hole him self up. Safely behind Blank looks he would build more almost-unbreakable walls around the steel fortress inside. But even I should have realized that steel can break...


He was crying.

I had never seen him cry before. All of his emotions channeled through in masks of white-hot fury and destructive behavior. Some times, when it got really bad, he would hole him self up. Safely behind blank looks he would build more almost-unbreakable walls around the steel fortress inside.

But even I should have realized that steel can break. Metal can only be pounded and bent, until it snaps, and right now, that seemingly in-destructible fortress has finally crumbled into a pile of meaningless dust. Leaving the soul it protected bare, and alone.

I had only seen his soul once. A tiny glimpse in the dark furies of hell, it shone white hot amongst the shadows. I saw the man I was to save repeating over and over and over as he cut bone and shredded flesh with no hesitation;

_"I'm sorry. I'm sorry."_

Now, I could see its pure light fully, and I was amazed. A glittering white gold. With shining black-gold inlay, weaving around it like wings of a Genitrix, wrapped around a newly hatched Cherubim. There was glittering of something that could only be compared to the finest jewels of Heaven. Tiny diamonds of the palest greens, flickering amongst dazzling emeralds and sapphires. Which could only be equalled to those found on that the Holy Mothers couronne d'étoiles*.

I drew my gaze away from the soul in which should be held in heavens highest regards, and turned my eyes to the man in which it belonged. The man whose freckled face was currently flushed and tear stained. Expressive eyes glazed with polished tears falling in a steady stream down the heart-broken face.

I did not need to ask, nor did I pry. Because the look on the handsome face of the righteous man was the look of a war-torn soldier constantly faced with battle after battle. Pushed into making decisions that he will most likely regret for the rest of his life. The look of a man who truly believed he was alone in the world, with no-one else to return the unfailing love of his heart and beautiful, beautiful soul.

Then I did something I had been told in my youth was a sign of comfort. Watched millions upon millions of children receive the same gesture from loving parents and friends. I had been told never to give someone this gesture, as it may attach my soul to them forever. Leaving me emotionally compromised.

But I already was, wasn't I? So I gave a deep breath and pulled the beautiful, green-eyed man into an angels embrace. He stiffened, but soon relaxed. And unto my shoulder poured silent tears of regret, pain and self hatred. I did nothing but listen to the sobs retching from his throat.

His tears wet my coat, but what did it matter? I could dry off with a click of my fingers.

Instead I rocked the body of a hero, and turned my attention back to the soul of a damaged warrior. It was shuddering along with the spaztic rhythms of his sobs. And I did something bold. Warily, I sent comforting tendrils of my grace to wrap protectively around the brilliant light of the others.

The man gave a gasp in my arms and my grace drew back, but I could hear something telling me to continue, I wanted to continue. He clutched at my jacket, somehow drawing our bodies closer. So carefully, slowly, I continued the menstruations, wrapping the treads of my grace around his own, laying them upon the wings etched upon his soul.

Our hearts beat as one as the final thread lay itself down. And for the first time, the feeling of... contentment. Completion. I didn't want to remove the pieces of grace, and I didn't think that I could if I wanted to. Our very essences had become one.

We had completed the path I had laid when I had raised the righteous man from the fiery depths of perdition. Lifting my hand, I gingerly set my palm against the raised handprint. Mirroring the scarred imprint left so long ago by my grasp.

I shivered at the feeling and drew him closer. It was a feeling of safety, of comfort. We were our own fortress in a way. Neither of us wanted to release the other. His tears had stopped, and he was resting his forehead against my shoulder.

_"Damn, Cas." _He breathed, hot air blowing against the drying tears left on my neck. He sounded exhausted, tired. But content. I lifted my head to look at him quizzically.

_"Yes Dean?"_

He laughed weakly, and turned to look at me. Emerald irises dark against the tear stained pink of his sclera. He smiled. It was a small smile. But genuine none the less. A small lift of the corners of his mouth in a half smirk. He leaned in closer, close enough I could feel a whisper of his breath against my own lips.

_"Warn a guy next time will you?"_

I frown at him, my eyebrows furrowing. What did he mean? I could hear a increasing pounding in my ears, and barley registered it to be my vessels heart. Why was it speeding up? Our souls shifted against each other slowly. Sending lightning bolts up and down my spine.

_"Dean, I do not-"_

His lips crashed into mine, cutting off my speech entirely. He tasted of mint leaves, and spice. It was an odd contrast that was strangely appealing. I moved my lips against his, and he moaned into my ministrations breathlessly. He licked my lips, an odd, wet flick against the skin of my own, and I parted them for him. He entered into my mouth and explored the crevice with ever-deepening strokes. It wasn't until later, when air became a necessity, for him, not I, that we finally parted.

Panting slightly, he buried his face into my shoulder grinning tiredly as we dropped onto the bed. Angels did not need sleep, but lying in bed was nice. And I listened to his breathing ease out into a deep, and slow rhythm. Leaning into the pillow I wrap my arms around the peaceful warrior and smile when he unconsciously leans into the embrace, I decide to give sleeping a try.

Tomorrow we could face whatever problems the worlds threw at us. Of this world or the ethereal one. So long as we had each other we would be unbreakable. Unstoppable.

We would be our own fortress.

* * *

_**Finem**_

* * *

**Well, that's done. **

**We all know that I own nothing except the plot. **

**Yes this is Destiel. No, I don't know when its placed. Obviously and most likely anywhere up from season 5. **


End file.
